


I tasted you on my lips (and I can’t get rid of you)

by irisdecent cloud (jeadore)



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 05:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15857607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeadore/pseuds/irisdecent%20cloud
Summary: the one where Daniel is the It boy of the fashion industry and Sungwoon is a make-up artist. There's smoke and glamour in their lives—but also, love.





	I tasted you on my lips (and I can’t get rid of you)

**Author's Note:**

> This been in my drafts since june I think, and I thought 'why not post it?' lol  
> Bad summary, I know, but I can't come up with anything better. (tw: smoking and drinking mentioned, also some toxicity.)  
> I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> edit: now i remember i wrote most of this listening to Arkay's cover of Energetic. If you can, it'll be nice to give it a listen. Dongsu's voice is amazing as always and he turned the song into a haunting highclass melody~!

Daniel first sees him during the first night of the year, the biting cold slipping through the layers of clothes and sinking deep into his bones. He got almost kicked out to the balcony less than five minutes ago because Park Woojin might be a chill dude 99% of the time but he turns into a little bitch whenever a cigarette comes into the picture.

“What did you expect? He’s in your average rookie monster group, Melon Top100 princes. Do you really think he’ll like to be linked to cigarettes in his own party?” Park Jihoon deadpanned, all cherubim cheeks, beautiful eyes and tone flat. “Not everyone can be the It boy that every living soul loves despite their shit,” he added with a sneer and that’s rich, really, coming from Korea’s cute wink boy. The guy has everybody roped in the _jeojang_ aegyo hook he invented long ago.

The thumping bass of the music was too loud to even try to reply. Besides, there was nothing to deny. So Daniel shrugged and laughed it away.

He has never asked for love. Attention and magazine covers? Yes, please. That and big brand designers runways were all he wanted. The public's love and top10 naver searches are just consequences.

So he sneaked out minutes later after that, when he was finally able to shake the other guests off—Industry acquaintances that were only trying to expand their contact lists—with Ong Seongwu’s help. His best friend is actually quite good at effortless lies and talking over the other people when he wants. He’s also awfully dramatic and starts whining the moment they step out into the night. They are received by the bright lights of the city and the cold air and Seongwu replies with endless complains about numb fingers and dry smoke, even if Daniel hasn’t even lit his cigarette yet.

Nevertheless, Seongwu sticks beside Daniel, leaning over his broad shoulder and bringing his hands closer to the bland fire of Daniel’s lighter. “Weren’t you to give up on this shit? Fucking addictions,” Seongwu mutters as he hadn’t been about to drop the energy drinks two weeks ago too. Yet he has been mixing Redbull and vodka all night. Daniel chuckles and takes a long drag.

In between clouds of smoke and Seongwu’s condensed puffs of air, he peeps the car stopping by the building door, three stories down.

“Who’s that?”

His friend takes his time to glance down. “Minhyun.”

“No, not Minhyun. The other, the red-haired one.” Red hair, white coat, small body structure. Cute, even from afar.

“Ah. Ha something. Or Lee? Sungwoon! Something Sungwoon,” Seongwu recalls and snaps his fingers. “Just a make-up artist. I think he did Woojin’s jacket album shoot makeup?”

Daniel nods and takes another drag. The name may ring some bell at the back of his mind, but the industry is big enough for them to have never crossed paths. Seongwu continues talking about how he thinks he saw him in Supreme’s last show, hissing more complaints about the cold in between. Daniel rushes himself to finish his cigarette and flicks its butt over the balcony rail.

“Fucking finally,” Seongwu mutters.

Back inside, they go straight to greet the newcomers. Next to the open bar and surrounded by a few of adoring jailbait rookie models, Minhyun stands with all the calm and elegance that made him rise in the fashion scene. Even when he walks Ren’s most avant-garde design, he still pulls it off effortlessly. Maybe Daniel would be a little envious if people didn’t say something similar about him.

“Hello,” he says to the guy with the hair dyed red and arms crossed. He’s frowning a bit too—or so Daniel thinks. It isn’t easy to see under the strobe lights and his long fringe. “I don’t think we met before. I’m…”

“Kang Daniel, I know,” the man cuts in. “I saw your face three times already today.”

Besides them, Minhyun laughs and loosely puts an arm around the man’s shoulders. “Sungwoonie hyung is just bitter because it had been raining all day, but it stopped before he could back out of this party.”

That perks his curiosity. “Not a party person?” he asks. Maybe that’s another reason why they’ve never met.

“No, just fucking cold.” There’s a smirk on his face and certainly smugness in his clear voice. Up-close he’s even cuter. Plush full lips and high cheekbones, skin clear and white like snow except by his rosy cheeks. Daniel thinks he hears Minhyun say that Sungwoon actually loves parties, but it gets drowned by the loud beat and the crowd’s murmurs. 

“Yeah, we just came from outside and it’s harsh,” Seongwu comments nonchalantly and then mutters something about all being Daniel’s addiction fault.

Sungwoon wrinkles his nose. “Funny thing about smokers: can endure the cold just to get their nicotine fix. To drag away their health and slowly ask for lung cancer,” he says and quickly glances at Daniel’s hands. “I prefer something warmer. And alcohol.”

They get two bottles of champagne from an almost smashed Jihoon who bickers around with everyone and winks whenever he’s asked to. Woojin helps him to stand still and then to pose for the nth selfie of the night. Camera shutters were being clicked all night and Daniel makes a mental note to post in his instagram a shot of the party with some thank you comment or just an emoji.

People come and go, asking for a picture and striking conversations. After a while, he realizes that Sungwoon has disappeared in the crowd when he comes back to yell at Minhyun something along the line of getting the Nohant show before he disappears again.

Apparently, Sungwoon is a social butterfly that talks non-stop, laughs loudly and drowns alcohol like water.

After his third trip to the balcony, he approaches Seongwu and Sungwoon and offers them a sip of his glass of wine.

“It reeks Marlboro,” Sungwoon comments and wrinkles his nose again.

“My bad,” Daniel smiles sheepishly. “Can’t stand it?”

Sungwoon shrugs and sips Daniel’s glass.

 

 

 

The second time is at the backstage of Beyond Closet’s fall/winter show. There’s still two hours until the opening but everyone is already drowning in the pre-show rush, with staffs yelling at each other and at the models doing the last minute fittings. Someone calls his name without animosity nor enthusiasm and Daniel sits down in the designed chair of the makeup station.

Firm hands grab his chin to look up and he’s face to face with white clear skin and plush lips guy. “So you’re my makeup artist? Ha Sungwoon?” he asks after reading the name tag in the other guy’s sweater.

“Yep. And you’re Kang Daniel and do stupid questions?” the other man replies with a smirk while he stars applying foundation.

Daniel laughs sheepishly until he gets scolded by Sungwoon. “Sorry. And here I was thinking I only gave you a first bad impression.”

“ _Please._ My apartment is right in front of your Calvin Klein ad. Your abs gave me quite a first impression,” Sungwoon retorts with a smug smile. “Now stay still, I have to do your face.”

“You’ll turn me beautiful?” Daniel smiles and raises an eyebrow.

Sungwoon scoffs. “I don’t do miracles.” Then he shushes him and with steady soft hands continues brushing layers and layers of foundation. Sungwoon hums a song while he works, but then he bites his lip in concentration. It’s distracting, so distracting that maybe Daniel stares for a while and it ends up with Sungwoon bitching that he can’t rim his eyes right.

That night Daniel strolls down the runway with protruding cheekbones and hooded eyes, mysterious and enticing and looking every bit like the dreamy rebellious college boy out of a 1940’s American film.

 

 

 

The third time is at the Nohant after party. Sungwoon is drinking and slowly getting his cute rosy cheeks again, a look vastly different from the one the rest of them were portraying tonight. Cosmopolitan chic men, all clean cuts and disinterested glamour. Now that colour palette has faded along with the smouldering seriousness, giving way for the cheers and clinking of glasses. Expensive liquor in an expensive club—maybe they would never be able to ditch off the glamour of their lives nor want to.

After the fifth shot, Sungwoon starts to lean against the backseat, falling slowly against Daniel’s arm. No one says anything about that nor about the fluttering touches in his tight.

Out of habit, Daniel takes out his cigarette box. “Sorry. I know you don’t like the smell,” he mutters in Sungwoon’s ear when he catches the other’s blank expression.

Sungwoon does a vague gesture as he sniffs the polluted air of the club.

“You’re using _ck One_ , right?” he asks after a moment. And he doesn’t even wait for an answer. “I could fuck with that.”

The skies are tinted with gold morning hues and they are a bit way too drunk when Daniel finally gets his number.

 

 

The fourth, fifth, nth time happen in a blur. Too much of everything. Too much laughter, too much Sungwoon, too much Daniel. There’s fancy food in fancy restaurants that they barely touch, there’s Egypt cotton white sheets draped all over Sungwoon’s body, there’s Daniel falling hard.

And maybe there’s too much bliss, but bliss is never meant to be slowly and carefully enjoyed.

Daniel lits a cigarette next to the window. Seoul is waking up to life again, even if it was never completely dormant. Still vibrant and messy under the surface, under the confident demeanour. He flicks the ashes into the morning air and realizes that deep, deep down fear is bubbling in his core.

He fears he might get addicted.

Then firm steady arms circle his waist from the back and plush lips grace over his shoulder blade.

“What are you thinking?”

“I have a photoshoot in Hong Kong next week,” Daniel says instead.

Sungwoon steals his cigarette and takes a short drag. White thin stick against plush reddened lips, provocative and sensual. Smoke is breathed out slowly through a smirk, a tease. Daniel can’t help but stare, transfixed.

“Come back to bed.”

He can’t say no.

 

 

 

The last time Daniel sees him, Sungwoon is hastingly putting all his belongings, brushes and palettes, back into his bag without an ounce of his usual care. The blasting red fire of his hair has faded long ago into a warm blond and re-dyed in a deep purple, yet the spark in his eyes remained the same—now tinted with anger and weariness.

October’s bleary skies marks the end of warm summer nights and late night meet ups by the riverside. Soon it'll be all the colour of golden brown and ashes.

“Leave me the fucking alone, I’m tired. I’m so tired of all this shit, this industry, these jerks. You. Leave me fucking alone.”

“What the hell, hyung.”

Sungwoon scoffs and then bursts in laughter, something dry and bitter and void of its usual jauntiness. And it pains Daniel to realize that the spark is barely a reflection from before.

“I tried, Niel. I tried to give this, this thing another chance. I tried to give me another chance, but. No. I’m never enough.”

“Don’t listen, hyung. You’re great, more than great. Don’t pay attention…”

“Yeah, like you don’t pay attention to what they say about you? When you barely eat? When you give up sleep for another shoot, another show? When the first thing you do in the mornings is check the trending topics? People don’t just love you, Daniel. You shape yourself to be loved,” Sungwoon says. Voice obscure, poisoned. His words sting, sting so fucking much, but Daniel can’t even reply. “And what if people decide that they’ll stop loving you if you like me?”

“People won’t…”

“People will,” he hisses, utterly sure of it. “I’m not like you. Not like Seongwu nor Minhyun either. And we’re not just two guys from a fucking boygroup doing skinship. And you know what is even worse?” he snarls. Daniel can’t do anything but shake his head, dizzy. “I am like you after all. I need validation too. And that fucking hurts my pride.”

 

 

Breath.

 

Breath.

 

Hold on, Daniel. Hold on.

 

Hold it a bit longer. Breath.

 

 

But his mind chants _Sungwoon Sungwoon Sungwoon_ and, honestly, Daniel’s feels like he’s chocking in pure clean air and glittering powder.

 

 

 

The first time Daniel really approaches him is over the intercom. Two days prior to Christmas, he finds himself standing in front of the modern apartment building with trembling hopes. White pristine snow falls and it reminds him of Sungwoon’s skin, of the sheets wrapped around Sungwoon’s body, of the small stick against Sungwoon’s lips, of the blank expression Sungwoon had as he walked away.

Daniel looks for his pack of Marlboro and ends up ringing the bell.

“Niel? What are you doing here?” he hears the distorted voice say after his shy greeting.

“Hyung, come down,” he asks. _Pleads._

“What the—. It’s snowing, Daniel. It’s—,” Sungwoon complains. He can already imagine him, dressed in a big comfy soft sweater that swallows his whole figure and a scowl in his cute face. Minutes later, he’s dragged inside by the man looking just as he pictured. “What are you doing here?“ Sungwoon repeats.

“I wanted to see you.”

“Daniel, it’s fucking freezing.”

At that, Daniel grins. There’s worry in his tone, hidden between the obviousness and the disgust.

“I know. I know, hyung. Funny thing about smokers: they can endure the cold just to get a fix,” he says between staggered shivers and stutters. Sungwoon snorts and curses him under his breath after chuckling an _unbelievable_. Under the artificial lights and in the secrecy of the apartment hall, Daniel finds it. The spark in Sungwoon’s eyes he thought it had died. “I love you, hyung. I love you and I won’t give up on loving you if that means that you love me back.”

Eagerness and deprivation push him towards the other, neglecting any possible answer. He lits Sungwoon up with a few chaste kisses that soon escalate and he’s kissing him deeply, trying to drag every taste, every breath from Sungwoon. They kiss and kiss until they feel their lips about to burn. Then they kiss a bit more.

They go upstairs without elegance nor finesse. Right now, the only glamour he knows is Sungwoon’s lips.

Daniel whispers another “I love you” against his rosy cheek and willingly burns himself.

 

 

 

“So, Sungwoon and you are an item now?” Seongwu asks him at the backstage of Cerruti 1881. He’s all perfection and sharp angles, both of them are, children of the big cosmopolitan cities mixed with dazzling nostalgia. If it weren’t for all the foundation and concealer, Daniel would be able to see the lines of exhaustion. A bit jet-lagged and already bored from trying to communicate in French and English, Seongwu is nothing less than blunt. “You landed him the job?”

Daniel shrugs. “I just recommend him. Everybody dreams with Paris.”

His best friend bursts out laughing, attracting the attention from the other young beautiful models.

“It’s hard to give up an addiction, I see.”

“Not an addiction,” Daniel replies immediately. “Our relationship is not that unhealthy.”

Sometimes Sungwoon consumes in himself, sometimes Daniel is the one burning faster. But they’re working on it. They’re getting better. They deal with the ashes, flickers them with patience and lit up each other again.

“Oh?” Round-eyed, Seongwu seems a bit incredulous. “That must be a first in this industry.”


End file.
